Now my depression is grey- and red; as, I’v poured wine on my sadness. Wrapping my hands round the coffee mug my wine hides in, thinking it’ll all be over soon. The red has now mixed in with my blood, streaming together, creating weaves throughout my soul. The mug is now stained with red tears; but, my tears are dry, I’ll cry no more.
The waves can’t settle, or they seize to exist.
The music gets better as the waves get stronger: both feeding off one another; both feeding my soul. The waves must go on.
Link: http://wp.me/p3Duo0-HCM
1 comment
I hear you. The pain grabs hold of you and become like waves in the ocean, mixing with your soul, going on and on.
I wish you didn’t hurt. I wish you hadn’t had these emotions that created this post.
Hold on, keep writing. Keep going. Most of all I wish you strength where you need help.